Chapter Text
1: like a prayer, you don't expect an answer (though you ask for one)
Two weeks after Pyeongchang, and Scott Moir now understands the meaning of the word overwhelmed on a molecular level.
It’s not even because of the media frenzy (turns out a comeback plus relationship baiting made for compelling television, who knew? Spoiler: Tessa knew) or the typical responsibilities that come with winning a gold medal for your country (that part, at least, was familiar territory) - it was The Nothing.
As in, What’s going on with you two? Oh, nothing.
To be fair, Scott has been just as guilty of using their busy schedules as an excuse to avoid discussing The Nothing. They’ve been not talking about it for two years, now - long enough that he’s not even entirely sure why they’re not talking about it anymore, but thinking about it is enough to give him an uncomfortable knot in his stomach, so he just...doesn’t think about it.
Tessa’s been thinking about it, though. He can tell at the end of a long day, when they’re alone for those few minutes before they go back to their hotel rooms or he’s walked her to her car, and she goes quiet and her whole body seems to shrink just a bit and her eyes get that faraway look, just for a moment before they hug and say goodnight. What’s up, Tess? Oh, nothing.
That, combined with the entire world’s fascination over the exact nature of their partnership, has pulled The Nothing back out of the recesses of Scott’s mind and given it free reign to body check him with every question about their personal lives.
“Are the two of you-” pow!
“You’re together now, right?” oof!
“So obviously you’re dating.” wham!
And here they thought they knew what they were doing.
2: like the actors I seen on the television, with the stage lights on
The romance angle hadn’t been all Tessa’s idea. It was already out there, had been for years, despite denials and relationships with other people. It was just her idea to give it a little more ammunition.
To be honest, she was surprised that Scott was game for it. He never cared much for the publicity side of things - it was a moral quirk of his that he wanted to know they’d won based on the strength of their skating, and not because of invisible popularity points. She suspects he agreed because if everyone thought they were an item, it would help them maintain the insulation against the outside world that they needed if they were going to make this comeback a success.
He could be surprisingly pragmatic like that.
So they both swore off seeing other people for the next two years, stood a little closer to each other at the rink, let themselves be openly affectionate in a way they rarely were outside their own homes. They prepped for the inevitable questions, had teasing responses ready for every possible permutation of “Are you dating?”
It worked, with some surprising side effects - Tessa hadn’t expected how much their ploy would influence their skating, for the better. It made sense, when she thought about it; demonstrating their closeness made them feel even closer, which translated to the ice. Score one for the Virtch.
The other side effect was much less welcome. As the months wore on, a vague, intangible heaviness began to settle into the atmosphere around them, seemingly at random. While they were blocking choreo, Scott’s hand on the small of her back. The night after a particularly grueling training session, watching sitcom reruns side-by-side on Scott’s couch with strategically placed ice packs on their screaming muscles. The moment after one of them thanks the other for picking up their favorite coffee order/drink/whatever, without being asked.
And, lately, just about every time someone asks them The Question.
Really, though, it’s playing out the way Tessa knew it would. She knows exactly what she’s doing.
Doesn’t she?
3: you threw yourself in with me, made a cross and you lit a candle
Scott’s lying on his back in a hotel room in Toronto, trying to will himself into the shower, bone tired and feeling a little existential when he hears the knock at his door.
It’s Tessa, because of course it is, and she does a double take at the sight of him. “Did I interrupt something?”
He looks down at himself and realizes his shirt is half unbuttoned, his belt is undone, and he’s only wearing one sock. “No, ah...I was about to shower.”
“Oh. I mean, it’s not that important, we can talk tomorrow…” but he’s already ushering her in as he removes his belt and pulls off his other sock.
“What’s on your mind?” Please don’t say nothing, he thinks to himself as he grabs an overpriced beer from the mini fridge.
Tessa plops into the armchair in the corner, takes a deep breath. “You know we don’t have to keep this up any longer, right?” The words tumble out of her mouth in a rush, and she presses her lips together when she’s done, like she’s trying to keep something else in.
It takes him a minute to parse what she’s said, and he opens his beer and takes a seat on the bed to face her. “Keep up...keep what up?”
“The whole secretly-in-love thing.” She sucks in her top lip just a bit to chew on as she watches him take a swig of beer. “Like...it’s all over, right? And I know you’re getting tired of The Question. So we don’t have to keep pretending to be attracted to each other.”
“Oh. Right.” He takes another swig. “Except we’re not really pretending.”
There it is. The thing they weren’t going to talk about.
Tessa’s pale to begin with, but she goes about three shades whiter. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she says, quietly but firmly.
“I know, Tess, I know. I just-” Scott sighs, stares down at the bottle in his hand as he swirls what’s left of his beer in circles. “I’m sorry I said that. It’s late, I’m exhausted, we have another interview tomorrow morning and there’s no way this is going to be a productive conversation.”
Tessa nods, takes another deep breath and draws her shoulders back like she’s getting ready to take the ice. It’s also, Scott knows, the signal that she’s taking whatever it is that’s bothering her, stuffing it into a bottle, and corking it tight. “You’re right. I’m sorry too.” She gets up from her chair and stands in front of him, takes his face in her hands and gently tilts his head back so he’s looking her in the eyes. “I just wanted to tell you that you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do on my behalf.”
He’s still looking up at her as she brings her head closer, and rests her forehead against his. There’s traces of black under her eyes. She’s been crying. “I know that, T. I won’t. I promise.”
She smiles, her eyes close. “Thanks, Scotty. You’re my favorite person.” She presses a quick kiss to the top of his head, and then she’s gone.
Scott waits until he hears the door latch, then ditches his beer on the nightstand and flops back on the bed. “I’m such an asshole,” he says out loud to himself, then drags himself towards the shower.
4. in the dark I thought I saw you...or was it nothing at all
The thing that everyone gets wrong, Tessa thinks, is the idea that they’ve never considered a relationship together.
They talked about it as teenagers, Tessa making a detailed list of Pros that was shorter than the Cons by a hair and Scott sharing the horror stories he’d heard about teams screwing up their dynamic after screwing each other. No, they agreed, they liked each other a lot but they liked winning even more than that.
They talked about it after Vancouver, when they were on top of the world in the most literal sense and feeling like nothing could go wrong for them, and it was a long night with a lot of booze and a few tears and the realization that they’d come too far to wager what could be a long and successful career over a romance that could be over in a heartbeat.
They talked about it after Sochi, after feeling like they’d already peaked so why not give it a go? But both of them were finally starting to piece together what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives, and realizing that some of their pieces didn’t fit together as well as their bodies did on the ice. Pieces like career goals, family size, where to retire. Things that a couple of twenty-somethings were just beginning to understand as important.
They talked about it a lot after Sochi, actually. Tessa still remembers feeling relieved as they put everything they’d been thinking out in the open, being able to put all her doubts into words and realizing how much they loved each other even if it wasn’t like that . And then Scott started dating Kaitlyn and Tessa let herself close that box, label it Resolved, and shove it to the back of her mind. Which is where it stayed until Scott and Kaitlyn split, they decided to come out of retirement, and Tessa realized their mutual attraction hadn’t gone away. Not necessarily in that order.
She’s not sure exactly what happened between then and now, but she’s starting to realize that things hadn’t been resolved so much as deferred. And that she’s going to have to unpack that box.
And it’s gonna be so messy.
5. i've grown attached to you being here
The next time they talk about it, Scott springs it on her during their flight to LA. Unfair, yes, but he also knows that being in public means they'll have to speak in code, and Tessa is much more likely to share how she actually feels if she doesn't have to say it directly.
“So you’re...thinking of moving?” he asks, with a nudge that tells her he's not actually talking about moving.
She side-eyes him for a long moment before responding. “Well, I’m definitely not thrilled with where I’m at now.”
And whose fault is that? he thinks for a bitter half-second before guilt makes him immediately retract the thought. “So shouldn’t you, I dunno, call a realtor or something?” His eyes are burning holes in her cheekbone.
“I don’t want to call somebody only to find out that I’m wasting my time because I’m just going to end up staying in my current residence,” she grinds out through gritted teeth. “ Maybe the kind of place I want isn’t available.”
“Look, I don’t know where you’re getting that impression, because I can tell you that places are VERY available,” he says matter-of-factly, maybe just a little louder than is really necessary. “I mean...I would know.” She is absolutely going to kill me as soon as this plane lands.
Tessa takes a deep breath, closes her eyes in exasperation. “You don’t even know what kind of place I’m looking for.” Her voice isn't angry anymore, just weary.
“Well if you called a realtor, I’m sure you could communicate what you want and they could accommodate you or help you compromise.” Scott knows he's pushing his luck, and sure enough she reaches down and pulles her travel pillow out of her bag with a vicious yank.
“I’m tired, I’m going to nap. Wake me for drinks,” she mutters, and then silence.
Scott sighs. He is definitely not going to wake her for drinks.
Okay, maybe he would.